the beautiful life and death of 10,000 roses
by Reine Des Livres
Summary: He has so many things he wants to tell him but can't. So he writes them down instead. Inspired by Anya Gallaccio's Red on Green series. Features a more observant Arthur and a more independent Merlin.
1. Part 1: La Mort d'Arthur

**AN: Anya Gallaccio's _Red on Green_ series has a work of art called "The Beautiful Life and Death of 10,000 Roses", which is obviously where this title comes from. It's stunning and I highly recommend you to check it out. This features a more observant Arthur and will diverge from canon to fit an ending that doesn't leave me as heartbroken and unsatisfied as the Season 5 finale did. So without further adieu...**

The first time Arthur saw Merlin, he didn't think much of him. All he saw was a scrawny boy who needed to be put in his place. So obviously he would do the first thing that came to mind: throw him into the dungeons. Granted it wasn't every day someone stood up for a lowly servant, but Arthur didn't spare the scrawny boy a second thought, assuming he'd never see him again anyway.

The second time Arthur saw Merlin, he was surprised that a mere peasant dared to confront him for rightfully punishing him. His life needed a bit of excitement anyway, so he tricked the boy into a fight with maces.

Suddenly, instead of seeing a scrawny boy, he saw the high cheekbones and the wide grins. He almost felt his own lips wanting to pull into a smile but he quickly caught and admonished himself.

It seemed the surprises would never cease as the boy actually managed to survive past the first minute. This, of course, had nothing to do with the boy's ability with a mace because Arthur kept tripping over items he could have sworn weren't there a second ago. He knew this wasn't normal but he couldn't figure out how they could possibly move by themselves.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was screaming "sorcerer!" but really, he couldn't blame every little thing on magic. How ridiculous would it be if every time he tripped, he executed the people around him? For now, he'd just blame it all on luck.

Suspicions arose, Arthur couldn't help but look forward to the next time he'd see this boy. It wasn't often that people surprised him; he flattered himself believing he was quite adept at reading others. This one, however, appeared to have a multitude of facades, beyond just the two most people have, based on his experience with the lords and ladies who meet with his father.

The third time Arthur saw Merlin, he was saving his life. To his utter dismay, it was the boy doing the saving, rather than himself. To make matters worse, King Uther had the decency to name this boy his manservant, without the slightest of warnings. Immediately, his innocent curiosity turned to mild distaste. It was true that the boy, Merlin, intrigued him, but to live with his insolence at his side at all times?

Arthur may not have been happy with this situation, but he was still rather offended at how opposed Merlin was to being his manservant. It should be his absolute honor. However, knowing he couldn't go against his father, Arthur begrudgingly agreed but swore to himself he wouldn't make Merlin's life easy.

Later, he would feel something warm in his stomach as he thought about how his new witty manservant didn't think twice about risking himself to save Arthur's life. He told himself that's what Merlin was obligated to do and that it was nothing more than his sense of duty; he is the crown prince after all. Secretly, he thought Merlin wasn't the type to throw himself at the feet of the crown prince. Secretly, he hoped Merlin did it for him, Arthur, not for the crown prince.

Maybe Merlin was different from all the others.

* * *

If he was being honest with himself, Arthur had a faint suspicion that maybe this was Merlin's grand ploy to get close to him. His tactic was drastically different from his previous assassin who buttered him up in an attempt to gain trust. Maybe Merlin thought that by pretending to think nothing of the crown prince, he'd have a lesser chance of being discovered.

Arthur's head spun with this logic. Who was he kidding?

He pushed these thoughts away as he picked up his sword. He grinned to himself at the thought of fighting with Merlin again, this time without any obstacles that Arthur could trip over, though the term 'fighting' might be a bit too generous. A few meters away, Merlin stood awkwardly in armor much too big for him with his sword hanging limply at his side.

Arthur found himself thinking that if Merlin really was an assassin, he must have some inkling of sword fighting ability.

A few minutes later, Arthur stood corrected. Merlin was truly a new level of dreadful. He was split between horror and amusement, that is until Arthur found himself lying on the ground after tripping on a rock.

As he gave Merlin a list of chores to do instead, he started thinking about things, forgive his language, magically moving into his path again, both times around Merlin, as he could hardly admit to stumbling on his own. He wasn't a bumbling fool, unlike a certain someone.

But in light of the tournament of which he was currently the defending champion, Arthur took his mind off of Merlin.

The battleground was where he could forget all his princely duties and fighting was his release. With each swing of his sword, he could feel the weight on his shoulders becoming a little lighter. Before he knew it, he had defeated all his opponents for the day.

Instead of euphoria, all he felt was relief. His father wouldn't have forgiven him if he lost to any of these knights. Stepping off of the field, Arthur felt all the stress of being crown prince return. He braced himself for the feast that was being thrown in honor of this tournament.

Fortunately, he was spared from both boredom and insanity thanks to the very manservant he definitely was not thinking about.

Panting, Merlin quickly explained Valiant's deception and plot to kill Arthur during the fight tomorrow. It didn't completely surprise him as Valiant didn't seem the type to play fair. However, this was the word of a lowly manservant against the knight currently dining next to the most powerful man in the kingdom, but looking into the earnest eyes of his manservant, Arthur had a feeling that Merlin was telling the truth. He refused to believe he would lie about a situation as serious as this one.

Taking a leap of faith and risking his reputation, Arthur confronted Valiant in front of the entire court. To his embarrassment, nothing suspicious could be found about the shield and Merlin suddenly ran in claiming their witness was dead. Arthur felt completely mortified, and also slightly betrayed. He knew it was ridiculous feeling this strongly about someone he'd known for mere days, but he truly thought Merlin was different.

Hardening his features and making sure none of the devastation showed on his face, he fired him as his servant.

Except Merlin wouldn't give up. Arthur had to admit it was a bit endearing how concerned Merlin seemed about the fight tomorrow, but he was simultaneously flooded with annoyance. He just couldn't figure out his motives.

Arthur was getting tired of being surprised by Merlin so often. Turns out he was telling the truth about Valiant's methods of cheating. This time, he couldn't help the smile that stretched across his face, but at the same time, he found it strange that Valiant would lose control of his snakes at such a critical moment.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Merlin had something to do with it, but he quickly squashed that thought because taking that further would end disastrously.

In the meantime, he would ponder over the reasons Merlin could possibly have for defending Arthur so thoroughly. This was beyond anything a manservant had ever done for him.

* * *

Arthur felt a twinge of jealousy seeing the flower Gwen had given Merlin for two reasons. The first reason was that girls were supposed to be enamored with him, not his manservant. The second reason was that this was his manservant and girls shouldn't be giving him flowers. In fact, no one should be giving him flowers.

Then he internally slapped himself because there were more important issues than a serving girl giving a manservant a flower.

The sickness spreading through the kingdom had left him feeling more helpless than he ever had before. This wasn't an opponent he could defeat with a sword so he was at a complete loss. All he could do was hope that Gaius could cure them all.

Finally, he was given a task he could complete: find the sorcerer responsible for this sickness. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought of Merlin and his luck but he quickly brushed that away, until he realized he also had to search his manservant's room. Feeling only slightly ashamed, he wondered if he'd actually find anything incriminating.

His wonderings were further encouraged with how suspicious Merlin was acting. Arthur felt his heart skip a beat. What if he really was behind all this?

To his relief, there was nothing out of line in his room, besides his room as a whole. Honestly, Merlin barely owned any possessions, how could his room be this messy? He would vehemently deny this if anyone asked, but he could admit to himself that he wasn't looking as thoroughly as he should have been, though there wasn't any harm done, right?

As Arthur was arresting Gwen, he wondered how Merlin was feeling. He felt guilty for locking away someone who must be pretty important to Merlin, given the flower incident and all, but he thanked the gods above that it wasn't Merlin who committed the crime.

To his horror, Merlin bursts into the throne room claiming to be the true sorcerer behind the sickness in front of the last person to whom one would want to confess to having magic. So Arthur blurts out the first thing that comes to mind: Merlin is a love-crazed idiot.

Thankfully this has the desired result and Uther plays it off as a joke. However, this incident leaves two ideas in Arthur's mind that he can't seem to chase away. One, Merlin really is a sorcerer but he isn't the one behind the incident. How could he be? He wouldn't be able to hurt a fly. But this suspicion gave him a headache because he was taught all sorcerers were evil and Merlin was the opposite of evil so he forced his mind away from this thought. Two, Merlin really is in love with Gwen and Arthur doesn't know why on earth this would bother him but for some reason, it bothers him more than the first idea did. So he forced his mind away from that too.

After defeating the Afanc, Arthur, no longer helpless, was feeling on top of things again. Without the stress of a mysterious sickness, he was left to his own devices, which was a problem as it left his mind free to think.

According to Gaius, an Afanc must be defeated by fire and wind. He had the fire but where on earth did the wind come from? This was an underground cave that barely had moving air, let alone gusts of wind strong enough to defeat a magical monster. Only Morgana and Merlin were in the cave with him and there's not a chance Morgana would have magic, which leaves Merlin.

Arthur didn't know what to think. Time and time again, Uther drove the idea of sorcerers being evil into his head. Then Merlin comes along shattering everything he'd known, but then again, he'd only known him for mere days. This could all be an act. But why would he go through this much trouble? There's no way an evil sorcerer would endure the tasks Arthur set out for him.

 _Unless he was using magic to accomplish them._

But of course there was also the chance that Arthur was completely overthinking everything and Merlin was just abnormal manservant. Well, as normal as Merlin could be.

Arthur's mind raced and he longed to confront Merlin about it. But confronting would be admitting to knowing and admitting to knowing would leave him obligated to turn Merlin in as his duty as crown prince.

Then there was the other issue.

Morgana confided in him about her suspicions of Merlin being in love with Gwen. Seeing as both of them shared the same suspicions, they couldn't possibly be wrong, but he couldn't figure out why this bothered him so much.

He couldn't help but wonder if Merlin would confess to being the sorcerer if Arthur was the one imprisoned. Half of him was brooding while the other half was insisting he was being an idiot. Arthur grew convinced that all his problems would be solved if he could talk to Merlin about all of this. But he couldn't.

So he did the next best thing: he wrote it all down. He spent all night writing down a letter containing the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind since his suspicions first grew. He knew he'd regret it in the morning, but he was suddenly reminded of the flower Gwen gave Merlin and was consequently tempted to pin the note on a rose as if he would actually deliver it.

He grabbed his cloak and before he lost his nerve, rushed outside into the cool air. Plucking a beautiful red rose from the nearest bush by the castle, he hurriedly returned to his chambers, tied the letter to the rose, and left it in his cabinet before carefully locking it, promising he'd never unlock the door.

Exhausted, he collapsed down on his bed, his mind finally at peace.

* * *

He thought he knew fear—conquered it, even—but Arthur had never felt true fear before this moment.

Nothing had ever frightened him as much as watching Merlin drink a possibly poisoned chalice had. Time seemed to slow. Arthur was painfully aware of how quickly, but sporadically, his heart was beating. It was as if his heart couldn't decide between skipping a beat or adding a beat.

He felt a second of relief when Merlin turned, as if unscathed. But that relief soon turned to terror as he watched Merlin slowly crumple to the ground. Suddenly time seemed to unfreeze and Arthur rushed forward, his heart squeezing. He found it incredibly hard to breathe as he desperately tried to awake his poor manservant.

Yet again, Merlin had saved his life, and this time, it was Arthur's turn to save his. It didn't matter that this would be the most dangerous journey he had ever undergone. What mattered was that Merlin's life was in his hands.

When Arthur was faced was imminent death, hanging from a ledge with spiders crawling to him, his thoughts once again jumped to Merlin. He had to admit, there were worse ways to die, but his biggest regret wasn't the shortening of his life. No, his biggest regret was that he wasn't able to save Merlin. By dying, he'd be leaving Merlin to die too.

Then a glowing orb appeared before him. Something about this ethereal ball of light felt familiar even though Arthur was positive this was a result of magic, but something also told him it would lead him to safety. So with luck on his side, Arthur managed to both grab the mortaeus flowers and escape the cave.

Despair. Utter despair.

That's what he felt when he watched his father crush the hard-earned flowers under his boot.

Relief. Utter relief.

That's what he felt when he saw Gwen deliver a tray of food to his cell.

A small part of him felt angry that Gwen would be the one bringing the mortaeus flower to Merlin. He was the one who went through that perilous quest, not her. Another part was simply happy that Merlin would be saved. But then he thought about Merlin waking up and seeing Gwen's face and that anger returned tenfold.

But all that was cancelled out by the joy he felt upon seeing Merlin alive and awake and smiling like the idiot he is. He had to physically restrain himself from taking him into his arms to feel his heartbeat and proving how alive Merlin is.

Behind his back was a clump of roses he'd picked on the way here. He didn't know why he did, but he had half a mind to hand them to his manservant. He told himself giving him the mortaeus flower was enough; there's no difference really.

There was a difference though.

He forced himself to keep the roses hidden as he made his way to his chambers. It was only there that he realized why the floating orb of light felt so familiar. It had the same reassuring presence Merlin did.

That night, he wrote another letter, spilling his torrent of emotions that he was pretty sure he shouldn't feel. He didn't actually know what he was feeling but he knew it was the reason he felt all warm inside as soon as he saw Merlin smile.

His cabinet had 9 roses now.

* * *

The next 13 roses came from his anger towards one very honorable man: Lancelot.

In fact, he was so angry that when he plucked the roses, he tore the skin of his hand on the deadly thorns along the stems, which were now covered in his rich, crimson red blood.

Just saying the name filled him with bitterness. First, this unknown man saves Merlin from a griffin and then he manages to successfully land an attack on him.

Arthur is even more annoyed by the fact that Lancelot is a perfectly good person and a perfectly good knight.

At the celebrations for Lancelot's knighthood, he finds himself rather enjoying his company, until they started talking about beautiful people. Arthur was barely able to stop himself from saying 'he' instead of 'she'.

 _Do you think he's beautiful?_

 _I do._

 _He really is._

Arthur was fairly certain Lancelot was talking about Gwen but that only reminded him that that's the very person on whom Merlin set his sights. He told himself he most certainly wasn't jealous.

The next morning, Arthur realized that Lancelot somehow managed to get Merlin to lie for him. For some reason, that was the fact that angered him the most, even though Lancelot lied to the kingdom that he was of nobility. He felt almost as betrayed as he did when he thought Merlin made up the story about Valiant's shield. Then a horrible thought occurred to him. What if he had used magic to forge the papers? Geoffrey did say that the forgery was amazing.

To make matters worse, Lancelot was the one who defeated the griffin while Arthur was knocked out. But he was positive Gaius said it couldn't be defeated without magic, which meant someone aided Lancelot in defeating the monster.

The jealousy and betrayal caused the parchment to tear under the stress of the quill. He told himself the anger was from his manservant, who should hold Arthur above all others, lying to him, not from Merlin lying to him. He'd feel this way if anyone else did the same thing.

The letter was covered in ink blotches, little tears, and bloodstains. Dramatic as he is, Arthur felt this letter was an accurate representation of his heart.

His cabinet had 21 roses now.

* * *

 _That wasn't me._

That hardly seemed enough of an apology. He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for. It wasn't like it was his fault or anything. Okay, maybe the three trips to the stocks were kind of his fault, but Arthur couldn't be blamed for being mind controlled.

He was absolutely horrified by the idea of eloping with the girl, Sophia. He was Prince Arthur; he wouldn't resort to eloping. Unless..

He didn't let himself finish that thought.

Back to the letter at hand, he really didn't have anything else to say. Not that it mattered, but Arthur had an inexplicable desire to make every letter perfect.

Nonetheless, the piece of parchment had but three little words on it.

His cabinet had 23 roses now.

* * *

He did it for him.

Merlin was rubbing off on him. Ever since he became his manservant, the number of times the crown prince defied the king increased dramatically. Honestly, if he hadn't met Merlin with his accursed magic, there's no way he would've helped a Druid boy. It had only been mere weeks and he had already changed him so much. It terrified him.

It was obvious the Druid boy and Merlin had some connection. But how would a Druid boy know Merlin? He almost seemed in awe of the lanky servant.

Arthur couldn't see it.

Or maybe he could. Perhaps not in the same way though.

He liked to say he'd changed for the better.

To think just last year, he wouldn't have given the boy a second thought. Executions came pretty often, though come to think of it, the last one Camelot had was the first day Merlin arrived; the day he saved his life for the first time.

Exhausted from smuggling out the boy, Arthur wanted nothing more than to collapse onto his bed, but on his way back to the castle, he encountered another rose bush. He'd practically depleted the one he'd been frequenting, so he took his time carefully plucking the roses from this one. He lost himself in the rhythmic process of reaching into the bush, pinching the stem, twisting, and gently, minding the thorns, pulling out the rose. He wasn't going to do what he did last time after Lancelot's visit. His hand was sore for days.

That night, as he put ink to parchment, he wrote his first thank-you letter.

His cabinet had 57 roses now.

* * *

He really needed another spot for these roses; he couldn't continue stuffing all of these into his cabinet. Merlin was starting to get suspicious. He made a mental note to go searching for a bigger space.

In the meantime, he had to figure out a way to defeat an undefeatable knight.

Then, something caught his eye. Merlin walking with a package in his arms. He was pretty sure he didn't send Merlin on any errands so this had to be something for himself. In a split-second decision, he grabbed his cloak to follow Merlin and see what exactly he did in his free time, not that this was his free time. Arthur had half a mind to give him an earful about polishing his armor.

Following from about 20 yards away, he strode (not crept, because princes don't creep) along the hallways of the castle, careful not to let his boots echo. He couldn't think of a reason for Merlin to come down here. In fact, now that he really looked, these hallways didn't even look familiar. How could someone who's been here for only a short time know the castle better than him, who's lived here all his life?

The air suddenly cooled and he felt a faint breeze against his cheeks. He heard Merlin's footsteps stop and swiftly hid behind the wall. He was bursting with questions but he forced himself to wait patiently.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting but certainly not the clear beating of wings. He didn't think he could be surprised any further but then, echoing around, came a booming voice that he didn't recognize.

If anyone asked, he most certainly wouldn't have admitted that a dragon could've been hiding from him for years right under his nose. Literally.

But it did finally give him a confirmation about Merlin having magic. Sure, he had his suspicions but he didn't dare voice them because it was such an outrageous claim. The scrawny serving boy was a powerful sorcerer? Insanity.

But Merlin had good enough went and confessed to being a sorcerer. The ironic part was that when he did confess in front of the king and his advisors, no one believed him. Arthur couldn't argue with the scene he just witnessed though, and he wasn't really sure how he felt. Some part of him wanted to turn him in. He was a sorcerer! And he was also very offended, and hurt, that Merlin would lie to him, to everybody. But the other part of him argued that Merlin was also a sorcerer that saved his life multiple times and he couldn't have told anyone because magic was outlawed in the entire kingdom.

His head hurt.

The more rational side of him won. Merlin technically didn't commit any crime beyond existing. So Arthur would observe him carefully and if he stepped a toe out of line, he'd tell his father.

His heart hurt.

He wanted to trust Merlin, and he did, really. But this confirmation of magic made he question if he could trust him. Whenever he pictured him, he didn't see some evil sorcerer plotting to take over Camelot. He just saw lips pulled into a wide grin that should totally be outlawed because it can't be right that someone can smile so heartbreakingly beautifully and a face that can't show any negative emotion because that face was made for smiles and laughter.

But that doesn't change the fact that he has the potential for evil because magic is evil.

"I know you're there."

He was rudely interrupted from his thoughts by the dragon and no, he most certainly did not jump a foot into the air. Which then led to the dragon droning on about some nonsense involving destinies and coins. He tried not to dwell too much on it.

He failed.

"The Once and Future King" had such a nice ring to it. But that couldn't be him. The Once and Future King was destined for greatness. He couldn't do that. It was too much. And suddenly the not-so-inspirational spiels Merlin had made sense. Of all the people to whom he could've gone for advice about destinies for greatness, Merlin was the last person of whom he'd think.

But he was precisely the one person who'd understand.

With all those thoughts jumbled around in his mind, his imagination went its merry way into a realm where Arthur could tell Merlin everything, instead of a limp piece of parchment. So he told that limp piece of parchment of a world where it was Arthur and Merlin against the world.

And suddenly he realized the perfect place to put all the roses.

The cave.

The very cave that unfortunately had a dragon residing in it.

His cabinet had 71 roses now.

* * *

Arthur was somewhat hurt by the expectant expression on Merlin's face when Will claimed he was the sorcerer who caused the twister. Arthur knew better of course but he was deeply humbled by Will's will to keep Merlin safe, though he secretly felt a little jealous of their close friendship. It still hurt that Merlin didn't doubt for a second that he would condemn any and all sorcerers, even for performing magic to save his life.

He didn't think he would.

He'd give anything to be able to tell Merlin that he knew of his magic, to give him some semblance of comfort during this devastating time.

After this, he couldn't believe that he had suspicions concerning Merlin's motives.

So he wrote his first apology.

 _I'm sorry._

In a moment of overwhelming despair, he spent the entire night plucking roses from every bush he could find, despair making him throw caution to the wind. By the end, thorns covered every inch of both palms. He welcomed the pain; it was a relief from the anguish he felt whenever he thought of Merlin trusting others with his secret but not him.

He refused to tell Gaius how these wounds came to be; he couldn't even think of a passable excuse. Arthur wouldn't be able to hold a sword for a solid week.

The roses couldn't fit in one cabinet anymore so Arthur hid bunches in random places in his chambers. It was quite comical seeing petals everywhere, but the worst part: Merlin wouldn't be the one cleaning up this mess.

He groaned.

His chambers had 439 roses now.

* * *

Arthur was stressed out. So he went hunting, which was supposed to relax and calm his nerves. And it did, for a while anyway, but then he saw Merlin standing next to the unicorn. Arthur would've laughed in someone's face if a year ago, they told him he'd be having a nervous breakdown over a servant standing next to a unicorn.

But there he was, having a nervous breakdown over a servant standing next to a unicorn. It wasn't fair that someone could be as pure as a unicorn. It was absurd.

Yet there Merlin stood, smiling softly as he stroked the stunning creature. Against the blindingly white pelt of the unicorn, Merlin looked like he was glowing, his cheekbones the most defined it's ever looked and his skin perfectly smoothed, not a wrinkle in sight. His manservant seemed so at peace, so content.

Did he ever look at him like that?

It made his heart hurt thinking about it.

Of course he didn't. Arthur was his master who made his life a living hell. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but he was sure Merlin would never look so happy watching him. He longed to be the one who'd make him smile so wide.

He wanted to scream. When did he become such a girl?

Suddenly he felt overwhelmed with jealousy and the feeling that nothing he did would matter because no matter what he did, Merlin and Arthur would be nothing more than servant and master.

So he fired that crossbow.

And he was immediately filled with regret. Seeing Merlin's face fill with sorrow and distress was perhaps the worst moment of his life. But he couldn't undo what he just did.

Maybe that was why he was perfectly willing to drink the poisoned goblet.

It felt like time had slowed when he was falling onto the sandy beach. The last thought that went through his mind was of Merlin being in this very position in the dining hall.

At least it wasn't Merlin this time.

One corner of his lips was pulled up slightly as he met the sand.

Later, seeing that unicorn again grazing near a single rose made his heart burst with happiness and relief. However, it was seeing Merlin's breathtaking smile that suddenly made all his pain and toil worth it.

No more jealousy, because as he fell after drinking the sleeping draught, he caught a glimpse of Merlin's face. He couldn't tell if he was proud or upset that Merlin's countenance was twisted in a look of anguish far more potent than the look he had upon the death of the unicorn.

His chambers had 440 roses now.

* * *

Uther was wrong about so many things, and quite frankly, Arthur couldn't believe he was of the same mindset before. He was already moving away from Uther's unwavering stance against magic, and now he was moving away from his stance against justice.

So maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but Tom obviously wasn't the culprit; in fact, he was more like the victim.

Morgana's relationship with Uther had been stretched thin over the past few days, and Arthur feared it was nearing its snapping point. He agreed with her, but he couldn't voice his opinion like she could. She was the king's ward, which means she isn't held back by the same duties. He's the crown prince; he isn't allowed to stand against the king.

But how he longed to truly voice his opinions around his father.

 _You are wrong. Oh so terribly wrong._

Was that considered treason? Would writing down his thoughts also be considered treason?

If so, he'd already committed treason over and over, without any regrets. He wondered if one day, he'd be able to show these letters to Merlin. He dared to think of a day where magic was no longer outlawed and he was king.

Would he allow magic in Camelot once again?

The thought terrified him, but when he pictured Merlin standing by his side, he allowed himself a slight smile. Maybe when he was king, he'd be able to tell Merlin everything. Well, almost everything.

His smile fell.

A king couldn't pursue anything beyond a master and servant relationship. Not that he wanted to, of course. Did he?

He wanted to slap himself every time his eyes drifted to Merlin's lips, every time his breath caught when Merlin smiled, every time his fingers ached to lace themselves together with Merlin's fingers, every time he licked his lips when Merlin's neckerchief revealed a bit of skin. He swore to himself time and time again that he would never again think these thoughts and he broke that promise time and time again.

He plucked every single rose in the royal gardens.

Arthur dipped his quill in the inkwell every seven seconds. He found writing to be very cathartic and the scratch of the quill against the parchment to be oddly soothing. He lost himself every night in these letters that would never see the light of day.

He wrote about how Merlin's eyes seemed to twinkle under the sunlight, how his pale cheeks seemed to have a permanent blush, how no matter what he did a smile appeared on Arthur's lips, how time froze whenever he laughed, how Arthur yearned for even the shortest moments of conversation, how his heart ached every time they got close, and how painful it was to watch him talk to freely with everyone else.

His chambers had 612 roses now.

* * *

He thought he was merely pretending to be unconscious but before he knew it, he really was unconscious.

But in his last seconds of consciousness, he could've sworn he heard Merlin mutter some words in language he didn't understand and saw his eyes glow an unearthly color. He couldn't decide if it was terrifying or beautiful so he went with terrifyingly beautiful. This was his first time witnessing magic in his defence. It sent shivers down his spine.

Then it went black.

A few seconds later, his vision cleared. He was dangling between four of his knights, which was quite an uncomfortable position. He demanded them to set him down but none of them reacted in the slightest. Confused, he yanked his arm from the hands of the leading knight. To his shock, his arm split in two.

Wait, that wasn't the right way to describe it. It was as if the arm he was controlling was a ghost version of his actual arm. He jumped down and his heart skipped a beat. There, raised above the same four knights, was Prince Arthur.

Yet standing a few yards away from them was also Prince Arthur.

He looked down and his breath caught. It was as if he was simply made of mist. He went to grab his left arm with his right hand and it felt solid enough, but when he reached out to press his hand against the walls of the castle, he fell right through.

Panicking, he ran after his physical body, only to stop short when he heard Gaius's grave voice telling Merlin that Arthur was as good as dead. His eyes widened. His lungs must have collapsed because he suddenly couldn't breathe. The memories came flashing back: the questing beast biting him, Merlin enchanting his sword, the beast falling, Merlin screaming his name.

He was a dead man.

He felt empty. This wasn't how he wanted to die. He was going to confront Merlin about his darkest secret. He was going to allow Merlin perform magic out in the open unashamedly. He was going to become the Once and Future King with his most trusted Court Sorcerer. He was going to die satisfied and content, not with unfinished business.

He wanted to collapse onto the nearest chair but something told him he would've simply fallen straight through.

At least Merlin's safe.

But Merlin would've never known that Arthur knew about his magic. They had unfinished business.

 _No_ , Arthur thought, _this is not how this is going to end_.

He was thrown from his thoughts by an anguished wail. He threw a careless glance out the window but jerked his head black. There, in the middle of the courtyard, was King Uther acting completely unlike a king.

It broke his heart.

Arthur realized it was for him, and instantly he forgave Uther for the unfair judgment he passed concerning Tom.

His father made so many wrong choices, but Arthur knew he still had good in his heart. It made Arthur increasingly curious about what happened before his birth that caused such a hatred for magic, enough to lead to the Great Purge, but that was a thought for another day.

He made up his mind that he was not going to die today, but he might as well take advantage of his metaphysical state. He'd do what he was always curious about: follow Merlin.

He didn't think his heart could break any further. But there Merlin was, shattering his heart into a thousand pieces. Somehow, at the same time, Merlin managed to put every piece together again.

He was willing to trade his life for his? Idiot!

Arthur had taken the bite of the Questing Beast for Merlin and here he is throwing away that sacrifice?

He was overwhelmed with affection for his manservant. Every doubt he had, every moment of jealousy over Merlin caring for other people, and every uncertainty was erased. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face, but at least no one could see it anyway.

But then he remembered Merlin was going to die for him, which he couldn't let him do. He didn't know how exactly he was going to do that since he was completely unseen, unheard, and unfelt, but he was going to, somehow.

Yet no matter what he did—screaming at the top of his lungs, throwing punches, glaring—Merlin was still headed to the Isle of the Blessed.

Somewhere, distantly, he felt the echo of the killing bite on his side as he watched Merlin. He flinched terribly because he hadn't felt anything in hours. From that same unknown, distant place came Gwen's soft, gentle voice. He felt his heart pull a little but he had to follow Merlin.

The bloody idiot.

Here they were, one tangible and one intangible, standing in front of one of the most powerful sorceresses. Merlin stood so bravely, fighting for Arthur's life. This whole time, Arthur thought he was the strong one and Merlin the weak one, but now, he thought it was quite the opposite. Merlin had a quiet strength that would've gone completely unobserved if it wasn't for this strange case of half-living and half-dying.

Arthur was quiet for the journey back. He had screamed his throat hoarse to no avail. With a heavy heart, he drifted behind Merlin as he made his way to the physical Arthur.

Suddenly, his vision went black, only to, again, wake up in a few seconds.

He was back in his body. He wanted to cry, but princes don't cry.

And then when he found out Nimueh had taken Merlin's mother's life instead, he was ashamed to say he felt relief, but almost as soon as he felt it, he was flooded with guilt.

 _I'm happy to be your servant until the day I die._

When Merlin came to Arthur for his little spiel about his destiny as a great king, he immediately knew this was his idea of a goodbye. He almost broke down there and then, but he knew he couldn't stop Merlin from sacrificing himself for his mother.

Merlin's words still echoed in his mind later that day. Until the day I die. What did Arthur do to deserve such devotion? Was it his future self that inspired it? If it was, how could Arthur possibly live up to such expectations? He wasn't worth it.

To his surprise, out of nowhere came a bout of dizziness. The next thing he knew, he was back on the Isle of the Blessed, but this time, he wasn't alone in this misty state. Gaius was there with him. They silently acknowledged each other.

Gaius didn't seem remotely surprised to see Merlin there as well. Of course he knew about Merlin's magic.

Today had already been too much on him and on his heart, but seeing Merlin duel Nimueh tops it all. Arthur could've sworn his heart stopped beating for the entirety of it. Every time Merlin fell, Arthur's metaphysical stomach fell with him.

Somewhere in the middle of the duel, he realized: magic was like a sword; it was as evil as its wielder. That settled it.

As soon as I become king, Merlin, I'll reopen Camelot's doors to magic. I swear it.

He'd never been scared of Merlin before.

Sure he knew of his magic, but it never occurred to him that Merlin could use that magic offensively. When that bolt of lightning struck Nimueh, instantly killing her, Arthur felt a chill travel down his spine. If he didn't spend nearly every second of his life with the sorcerer, he would've been terrified of him taking over Camelot.

It scared him how easily Merlin could take over Camelot, especially since he's already trusted by nearly all. But he was also trusted by Arthur and in his heart, he knew Merlin would never use magic against Camelot.

Arthur was physically exhausted, but as he lied on his bed, he just couldn't fall asleep. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, but finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and got up to sit at his desk.

He stared at his quill and ink-stained desk. How he wanted to recount every detail of a day's worth of realizations, but he didn't know how to put it in words. He twirled his quill between his fingers, trying to figure out how to translate emotions to ink.

In the end, all he wrote was the promise he made to Merlin earlier that day.

His chambers still had 612 roses, which were stuffed in his cabinets and drawers, under the bed, and in every spot out of sight that he could think of. He really needed to figure out how to position them in the cave without disturbing the dragon.

But that was a problem for another day.

Finally, Arthur fell into a peaceful sleep in the first time in a long time because Merlin was safe and Arthur had a goal for his reign and everything was fine. For now, anyway.

 **AN: Part 2 soon to come:) Reviews gladly received.**


	2. Part 2: L'attaque du Grand Dragon

**AN: I start to diverge from canon** **in the third episode in which Merlin helps Morgana to find the Druids because I was on the edge of my seat during this episode, hoping against hope that he'd confess to her. As this is from Arthur's POV, I won't go into the specifics of what happens, but Merlin and Morgana do get considerably closer as a result.**

Arthur simply couldn't handle it anymore. Being in the same room as Merlin was almost painful, knowing he couldn't treat him as anything other than a servant. He still wasn't sure what it was that he was feeling but all he knew is that it hurt, and that hurt was caused by Merlin. So he did the only thing he knew to do: distance himself.

He hadn't written anything since the day he'd died. Well, almost died; although, he did feel like an entirely new person.

La Mort d'Arthur?

La Renaissance d'Arthur, perhaps.

He hadn't gathered a single rose either, due in part to the lack of space in his chambers. The other reason was that it suddenly felt too romantic to him. How ridiculous it was, him gathering roses and writing letters to his manservant!

There must've been something wrong with his mind. Perhaps it was sorcery. Maybe it was Merlin in a grand scheme to get Arthur to repeal the ban on magic.

And then he felt guilty for even thinking such thoughts. But really, there definitely was something wrong with him. He needed some time away from the distraction that was taking up way too much of his thoughts. It was quickly becoming a problem with his princely duties too; he made every one of his knights swear they would never speak of his, ah, performance just the other day.

So he would blame everything on Merlin for forcing him to get a new manservant who consequently wanted to destroy Camelot. After all, if Merlin didn't spend so much time In his head then he simply wouldn't have needed another manservant. It was all his fault.

..And here he was, again, thinking about the person he swore he wasn't going to think about anymore. He needed a distraction.

But when he said distraction, he did not mean a distraction like an attack on Camelot.

Cedric wasn't even that great. Sure, he did his chores on time, and maybe he was obedient, and perhaps he was never out of line, and Arthur supposed he was logically the perfect manservant, but that was completely besides the point. He was too _boring_. He was always _respectful_ and if Arthur was being honest, he was completely _fake_.

Arthur missed Merlin.

Arthur missed his clumsiness and his insolence and his stupid neckerchief and his radiant smile and his ears that were much too large for his head.

But most of all, Arthur really missed yelling at him. Quite frankly, it was only around Merlin that he could drop all pretenses. It was exhausting when he had to act like the prince he used to be. He could hardly believe that was the _real_ him, before Merlin. (He didn't know when he started dividing his life into before-Merlin and after-Merlin.)

With Merlin, he was just Arthur. Not Prince Arthur, just Arthur. And he missed it.

Of course, he would never say that aloud, especially considering he was obviously ignoring his incompetent manservant. So in the meantime, he would pretend that Cedric was so much better than Merlin. But he couldn't refrain from flinching when he saw Merlin's face after he complimented Cedric; however, he did manage to harden his facial features, lest he shows his true feelings.

And then Merlin just had to accuse Cedric of stealing the jewel.

Arthur wanted so badly to believe that Merlin was speaking the truth, but Cedric wouldn't have done such a thing. Merlin didn't even have any proof! He would've believed Merlin without a second thought, but he was suspicious about being under the influence of some sort of magic, so he managed to refrain from arresting Cedric immediately.

How he regretted that. He should've listened to Merlin.

And then Gwen saved his life, not once, but twice. He could see what Merlin saw in her, regardless of how adamantly he denied it. Or maybe he really wasn't in love with her and they were just really close friends. Nonetheless, he could see the allure.

Still no Merlin though.

Speaking of the idiot, he couldn't find him anywhere. Heart pounding, he ran outside, because knowing Merlin, he would probably do something idiotic, like face Sigan by himself. No, Arthur couldn't allow that. Except once again, it was Arthur in need of saving. His breath was knocked right out of him and he found himself incapable of getting up. He watched the gargoyle approach him, refusing to close his eyes in the face of death. He would die an honorable death. And then Merlin arrived, making quick work of the monsters terrorizing Camelot; the very monsters to which the elite knights, including Arthur himself, were losing horribly.

Half of Arthur filled with relief, but the other half was terrified that someone else noticed Merlin's blatant performance of magic. Had he no subtlety? At this rate, Arthur wouldn't fall in battle; no, he'd die of stress.

Arthur considered himself one of the manliest, if not the manliest, of men, but even he let out a dry sob at the words Merlin said to Sigan. Arthur wasn't even sure if _he_ could resist the offer of ruling Camelot with power unmatched by any.

He was flooded with guilt when even Sigan noticed the lack of respect Arthur offered Merlin, but he was the master and Merlin was the servant and there was no other way. He'd never hated his position more than he did now. Merlin deserved better and if Arthur was in his shoes, he'd be sorely tempted to accept. But this was _Merlin_ to whom this prospect was being offered.

They say power corrupts, but Merlin was plainly incorruptible. It amazed him.

So that day, in the first time in months, he plucked a rose from the rosebush that had somehow grown back already and wrote down a list of attributes that Merlin had of which Arthur was jealous, like his loyalty, his perseverance, his selfless, his cheerfulness, his humour, and his purity; or maybe like his smile, his laugh, and simply _him_. He imagined someone reading this and thought that he would just about die of mortification. Prince Arthur didn't _get_ jealous.

But Arthur did.

He wished he could give Merlin the rose and letter, but since he couldn't, he gave him the next best thing: his armour to clean.

His chambers had 613 roses now. But don't get him wrong; he was still ignoring Merlin.

* * *

Arthur wanted to scream when he realized his knights treated him differently from each other.

He still remembered what drew him to Merlin in the first place. It was the way he treated him. King Uther had beheaded for less, but he felt so refreshed; he'd laughed because he'd never felt so unburdened the stress that comes with being a prince. His father would have been appalled at how Arthur acted in front of Merlin— how _unprincely_ he acted.

He smiled thinking about it, but that smile turned into a frown as he remembered he hadn't had an actual argument with Merlin since he began ignoring him. He felt like a piece of him was missing, so he needed something else to make feel like Arthur.

What better way than to join a tournament under another name?

Meanwhile, he'd stay at Gwen's house. Every time he saw her, he was reminded of Merlin's infatuation with her. In his mind, he saw her giving him that flower, her kissing Merlin as he woke up from near death, her smiling up at him. Fire roared in his chest as he thought about something occurring between them.

But then Gwen exploded and proceeds to tell him exactly how she thought of him, and Arthur was overwhelmed with some emotion in his heart as he realized he didn't need this tournament to feel as he felt during one of his arguments with Merlin; he just needed Gwen.

He told himself the jealousy he felt earlier was because of Merlin, not because of Gwen. It nearly worked.

It had worked until the moment he kissed her.

He knew something was wrong the instant his lips pressed against hers. He waited for the moment he would sink into the kiss and be enveloped with bliss. He waited for his eyes to shut instinctively. He waited for the urge to wrap his arms around her neck. He waited for the palpable want he should feel when this close to someone he liked. He waited for the ache in his chest that was supposed to materialize upon the realization that he couldn't be with her.

But nothing happened. Sincerely upset and rather confused, he quickly pulled back and left, his thoughts racing as he wondered why he didn't feel anything. Maybe it was just the one kiss that felt oh so terribly _wrong_. Gwen was beautiful and sweet and he couldn't think of any reason why he wouldn't desire her.

Somewhere in his subconscious, he knew exactly why.

Except Gwen was obviously good for him. She showed him humility and compassion. He told himself he could learn to love her one day— one day, when he became king.

He found himself comparing Merlin and Gwen using ink and parchment. He compared Merlin's lopsided smile that hinted that he'd just done something Arthur would be better off not knowing to Gwen's shy smile. He compared Merlin's insistence on siding against him to Gwen's dutiful support. He compared Merlin's will to put his life ahead of his own without a moment of hesitation to Gwen's bravery against the gargoyles. He compared Merlin's taunts and jabs to Gwen's respectful honesty.

He plucked two roses and placed them side by side on his desk. One looked healthier and fuller, petals tightly packed around the ovule, though it had sharper and more plentiful thorns. He wasn't sure what that meant but he had a feeling it meant _something._

His chambers had 615 roses now.

* * *

Arthur couldn't believe it. This whole time he'd been imagining Merlin and Gwen together as a couple and then it turned out Merlin has been harboring affections for the king's ward. He really needed to stop getting so worked up over flowers. They'd be the death of him.

He played off his discomfort by teasing Merlin about Morgana, but with each denial, his chest tightened a bit more.

Oh yes, he was definitely _enchanted_.

The crazy thing was that he was fascinated with Morgana before Merlin, so it really took nothing to convince himself that he was only mildly upset because he once entertained the notion that Morgana would one day be his queen.

When he saw Merlin walking out of Morgana's chambers, he suddenly felt like he had a lump in his throat. Merlin looked the most at peace he'd ever seen him, his lips pulled into a carefree smile. He looked so _unguarded_ and relaxed and his arms were swinging wildly by his sides. He was so distracted by his thoughts, probably about Morgana, that he didn't even notice Arthur until he cleared his throat.

Arthur wasn't referring to himself, of course, when he told Merlin that he and someone of a higher class couldn't possibly pursue a relationship. He told himself the ache in his chest was because he and Gwen were in the same boat.

He picked four roses, one for each of them.

 _For something that maybe just wasn't meant to be._

His chambers had 619 roses now.

* * *

 _I can't! How can I admit that I think about you all the time. Or that I care about you more than anyone. How can I admit that I don't know what I'll do if any harm comes to you?_

 _Why can't you?_

 _Because nothing can ever happen between us! To admit my feelings knowing that hurts too much._

 _Who's to say nothing can happen?_

 _My father won't let me rescue a servant. Do you honestly believe he'd let me marry one?_

 _You want to marry me?_

 _No! No, I-I don't know. It's all talk, and that's all it can ever be._

 _When you're king, you can change that._

They were simply separated by too much. Not only was there a drastic difference in caste, the only relationships between men were strictly physical. Arthur laughed bitterly to himself. The only people he'd ever felt _something_ for were both people he couldn't be with. What a cruel joke like was playing on him.

But logically, there was a higher chance of something blossoming between Gwen and him. Arthur managed to convince Merlin that his affections were solely for Gwen, which means with time, he'll manage to convince himself of the same thing.

 _If you spend too long thinking a certain way, you'll start believing it._

And then Lancelot appears again, with whom Gwen appears to be infatuated. Arthur's eyes burned when he saw their eyes lock as if there was no one there but Lancelot and Guinevere. He felt Merlin shift awkwardly beside him.

It was almost laughable. Here Arthur was, the crown prince, after whom tons of people lust, yet his feelings were not reciprocated. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and imagined his heart freezing over. Upon opening them again, he exhaled slowly, grabbed his sword, and left the castle.

It was a terrifyingly beautiful sight. With each slash of his sword, rose petals flew up into the air. The bushes were completely ravaged and the ground was littered with leaves, thorns, and blossoms. He let out every bit of anger and frustration and with a final scream, the last rose was separated from his stem. Time seemed to slow as it descended upon the grass. Arthur slammed his sword into the ground and fell to one knee. He stayed like that for what felt like forever.

He left the roses there.

* * *

Arthur wanted to forget.

There was nothing more appalling, more revolting, more disgraceful than this— this _flirting_ between his father and Lady Catrina. It left a sour taste in his mouth and every time he looked upon them, he wanted to empty his stomach, which was distinctly different from how he felt seeing Merlin and Morgana. With them, it was like his heart was ripping right out of his throat, versus his eyes ripping out of their sockets.

He still had his suspicions that something magical was going on between Merlin and him, but he promised himself he'd break through this spell.

When Merlin commented on how quickly Uther and Catrina became close, Arthur couldn't help that was the case between them. He heard himself saying something about how Uther was powerful and wealthy, and that evil little voice in the bad of his mind asked if that's precisely why Merlin saved his life. He told that voice to shut up.

 _She's a troll._

Even though it hurt simply looking at Merlin, he couldn't help but laugh. Merlin had that effect on him. He missed the days when a simple jab from Merlin could alleviate him from all his stress, but now it seemed his presence added even more. He wasn't sure what had changed.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that his eyes were constantly drawn to him. He found it increasingly difficult to tear his eyes away from his manservant, especially during his horribly dull meetings with the lords and ladies of the kingdom or visiting kings from other kingdoms. One of the lords would be complaining about the peasants begging for more food than he could spare and suddenly Arthur would think of Merlin. What's worse, one of the ladies could be complaining about her hair and then his mind would jump to wild imaginations involving his fingers getting tangled in Merlin's mop of soft, enticing, floppy hair.

And then he would remember these fantasies are definitely not thoughts of his own. Half of him was having second thoughts concerning his promise to repeal the ban on magic because Merlin managed to change his opinion in mere months after he'd spent years of his life hearing Uther's mantra of magic being evil. Did that not seem a bit suspicious? Then the other half of him thought that that was ridiculous and the only reason he trusted Merlin so quickly was that Merlin was trustworthy.

His head spun.

But he had other problems. He knew it was wrong to collect taxes from peasants who were barely able to survive without having to pay the tax and he knew in his heart that by returning their money that he was doing the right thing. Then why did Uther name Catrina as the heir to the throne instead?

He thought his father was wrong, but what if he was the one who was blinded? Maybe all that he'd been feeling recently was just a bout of rebellion?

Arthur desperately wished for Merlin's calming presence and relentless devotion and resilient belief that he'd make a great king even though here he was failing at being crown prince. Then he heard quiet footsteps echo near him and quickly looked up. When he saw it was Gwen, he tried to hide his twinge of disappointment.

Afterwards, he chastised himself for feeling disappointed. He was grateful for Gwen's faith in him and he felt a surge of affection. Gwen had a very comforting presence and it reminded him of the warmth of the fireplace after a long day in the cold. But Merlin's presence reminded him of the thrill he felt from making the first kill on a hunting trip, or maybe it reminded him of racing through the forest on horseback. He told himself he appreciated Gwen's presence considerably more.

And then he found out that in order to wake Uther from this enchantment, he had to fake his own death and put his life in Merlin's hands. He was strangely okay with that, although he had his doubts about his father crying tears over him.

But then Uther did and the enchantment was broken. Arthur didn't know how to feel about that. He was reinstated as heir to the throne but he couldn't shake the sliver of doubt that snaked its way into his brain that maybe he didn't deserve this honor. Uther was a great king who built Camelot into a prospering kingdom.

After this entire debacle, Uther was even more determined to erase magic for good.

He just didn't know anymore.

* * *

If Merlin really was a sorcerer who was looking for a way to unsuspectingly take over Camelot and kill Arthur, he might as well just do it because Arthur couldn't take much more stress. He thought sorcerers would know what they're doing but Merlin was such a bloody _idiot_.

He had an inkling of suspicion that Merlin really did cause the smoke to appear as a horse but even Merlin couldn't actually be that careless, could he?

Regardless, he was rather impressed with Gaius's loyalty to Merlin, willing to confess to sorcery if it meant protecting Merlin, but Arthur knew how much the old physician meant to Merlin and that he would do anything it took to save him, except Merlin had too much to risk and Arthur couldn't let that happen.

So he steeled his nerves and decided to search Aredian's room because it was too much of a coincidence that he would have found the incriminating bracelet in Gaius's chambers. Merlin may be horrifyingly careless but Gaius is as careful as they come.

He made sure to wait for Aredian to leave his chambers before sneaking inside. He wasn't really sure what he was looking for but there had to be some way to prove Gaius's innocence. However, he only had a few minutes before he heard the handle of the door shaking. Panicking, he dove under the bed.

To his surprise, instead of seeing the immaculate, shined boots of Aredian, he saw the well-worn boots that Merlin always wore. He wanted to smack himself in the forehead but his curiosity about what Merlin was doing won, who had quickly snuck inside, but instead of closing the door, he stuck his head back out through the doorway. After a moment, he opened the door wider and in stepped no other than Lady Morgana.

Arthur's eyes widened dramatically. He could not figure out how they'd gotten so close. It'd started when Morgana's nightmares started worsening. The traitorous part of his mind produced an image of Merlin snuggled up against Morgana, comforting her as she shook from the effects of her nightmare. His chest constricted.

The two tiptoed around Aredian's room, opening cupboards and drawers to no avail, until suddenly, Merlin made a muffled squeal of excitement. He heard some hushed whispering and Arthur strained to hear, but couldn't seem to make out what they were saying.

But then the whispered abruptly stopped as footsteps once again echoed in the hallway. To Arthur's dismay, Merlin and Morgana had the same thought as him and consequently dove under the bed as well.

Merlin rammed right into Arthur, who let out a surprised grunt. Merlin then jerked up suddenly and bumped his head on the bottom of the bed, with Morgana trying to muffle her laughter to the best of her abilities. She succeeded right as Aredian opened the door.

The three stiffened at his sharp intake of breath and only then did Arthur see Merlin's look of panic. Arthur could only pinch his nose in annoyance. Merlin probably left behind a horribly obvious clue of someone entering the witchfinder's room. Fortunately for them, he didn't think to look under the bed. They waited for him to leave before confronting each other.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you."

Upon standing up, Merlin was grasping a strange looking flower in his hand. Arthur tried not to think about the parallelism between him and Aredian both hiding flowers in their cupboards. Later, they would discover that was a Belladonna flower, which caused hallucinations and was therefore near sufficient proof against Aredian.

And then something shocking happened when Morgana was held at knifepoint. Her eyes glowed an earthly color before Aredian suddenly released the sword as if it had burned him, letting it clatter to the floor. Arthur glanced around seeing if anyone had noticed, but it appeared the king and guards were focused on the witchfinder. The only one who had even the slightest of tells was Merlin, who was trying to keep from smiling proudly.

And that's when Arthur realized there was more between Merlin and Morgana than he had originally thought.

* * *

 _Perhaps my father's belief all who use magic are evil is wrong._

That was the closest he'd ever gotten to insinuating that he'd be perfectly okay with Merlin confessing to him about his magic. He'll admit that part of the reason he hadn't directly said anything, other than keeping Merlin safe, was his curious heart wondering if Merlin would ever trust him enough to say anything. It pained him to realize Merlin already trusted Morgana, yet couldn't trust him.

Arthur didn't know how to feel. It seemed that his life was always filled with confusion nowadays. He still wondered about how previously his biggest problem was which girl to chase after next.

To make things worse, his father, the very king who initiated the Great Purge, had asked a sorceress, the very one Merlin had incinerated, to grant him a son, Arthur, through magic. He was so furious he didn't even stop to think about how absurd Uther willingly sacrificing Igraine was or about how maybe Morgause wasn't showing him this without an ulterior motive.

 _Hypocrite!_

Fire roared somewhere in his chest, and something inside him was just waiting to explode. Time seemed to speed up as he raced blindly back to Camelot with no thought other than the fact that Uther was a hypocrite and a liar. The next thing he knew, he was in the throne room with his sword at Uther's neck.

Arthur was panting heavily and his hand slightly shook, and Uther clearly noticed, feeling as if he could easily convince his son that Morgause was the liar, not him. With each word he spoke, Arthur's hand shook harder as doubt crept into his mind.

At that moment, the doors to the throne room slammed open and Merlin rushed in, only to freeze at the sight. He hesitated, as if afraid any movement on his part would freak him out, before telling Arthur to stop, who was positive he wouldn't have listened to anyone else.

"You'll forever regret it if you do this." Merlin took one step forward.

"Don't become king through bloodshed." Another step.

Arthur couldn't see Merlin's face but he imagined he was looking at him earnestly, with that steadfast belief that Arthur would do the right thing. His voice came closer and Arthur knew his steps were quickening.

"He's still your father." Merlin was only a few steps away now.

"You won't be able to forgive yourself." Arthur wondered if he was imagining that Merlin sounded somewhat conflicted, but in his heart, he knew Merlin would always put his needs above his own. His sword arm dropped a few inches.

Merlin was directly behind him, and his voice had lowered to just above a whisper. "Drop the sword, Arthur."

His sword fell to the ground with a clatter and Arthur collapsed into Merlin's arms, emotionally exhausted, with Uther looking on, both relieved and annoyed that his son had listened to a servant rather than his king. His manservant slowly raised his hand to stroke the back of Arthur's head and when his fingers ran through Arthur's golden hair, the prince only shook harder.

His body ached from their proximity and, embarrassingly enough, a strangled sound came from his chest. Arthur hadn't realized until now how much he had missed Merlin. In that moment, he knew he was done foolishly distancing himself from his manservant. It would hurt, but the alternative hurt worse.

After a few moments, they separated and Arthur cleared his throat.

"If you value your life, _Mer_ lin, not a _word_ of this."

They both ignored the way his voice broke halfway through the sentence.

* * *

Merlin was acting very suspiciously. He was constantly smiling to himself and he was even more distracted than usual. This morning, Merlin _skipped_ to get him his breakfast and didn't complain once, to the point where Arthur almost missed it. Arthur's first thought was of Morgana, but she seemed more annoyed these days. Whenever the two were together, Morgana was angrily chastising him but Merlin was too busy dreamily smiling. If Arthur didn't know any better, he would've said Morgana sounded a little _jealous._

When he was caught by Halig, Arthur defended him without hesitation, but he couldn't help but wonder if the Druid girl really was released by Merlin and if that girl was the course of his distraction. He managed to press down the surge of distaste that threatened to arise at the thought.

And then Arthur came across Merlin with one of Morgana's dresses. He got the horrifying image of Merlin wearing the dress and quickly shook his head to clear his mind. He brushed off his suspicions through teasing, but he wondered if Merlin had stolen food and clothes for a certain someone.

It was with regret that he thrust his sword through the Bastet.

The next day, he heard Merlin and Morgana arguing, one upset and one defensive, not even attempting to lower their voices.

"—could you be so _stupid_? She was a danger to everyone and you continue to help her?"

"It wasn't her choice! It isn't fair to kill her for being cursed! And she wasn't a danger to everyone!"

Suddenly Merlin's voice got much quieter. "She wasn't a danger to me."

Morgana's tone softened but she was clearly still angry. "I know you cared for—"

"I loved her."

She visibly flinched. "What?"

"I was going to run away with her."

Arthur's jaw dropped open. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, and by the sound of Morgana's voice, she felt the same way.

She spoke pitifully softly, "You would've left me?"

 _You would've left me too? Without a word?_

Merlin tipped his head back against the wall, causing a small _thump_. He whispered, "I'm sorry."

She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. When she finally opened her mouth, her voice had hardened, "I am too," and spun on her heel before walking away, her footsteps steadily growing faster.

Arthur told himself he was done picking roses, but seeing Merlin heartbroken encouraged him to write some words of comfort. He wished he could hold him in his arms like Merlin did for him earlier, but he was the crown prince and crown princes didn't comfort servants. The best he could do was subtlety lower the number of tasks he had to complete.

 _A part of me wishes that was me because at least I would've gotten a day with you._

His chambers had 620 roses now.

* * *

He wasn't aware of anything except Merlin's soft lips pressed against his.

His scent, his touch, his everything was like a drug. He couldn't get enough, and the warmth of his body pressed up against his was intoxicating. He felt like his blood was on fire, filling him up with an emotion previously so foreign. Suddenly raising his head, Merlin gazed at him worriedly, as if looking for something on his face. It was as if he could see nothing but him; his whole essence was focused on him. He could feel his long, nimble fingers pressed against his cheeks as he brought his forehead to his.

Upon their contact, he shut his eyes, wishing for this moment to last. But alas, it was just a dream, though an impressively vivid one. He didn't even care about the cheering coming from somewhere in the distance.

 _Wait, what?_

Arthur jerked away from Merlin, staring at him in surprise. This was no dream-Merlin. This was real Merlin. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He fought the urge to reach up with his fingers to touch his lips.

He tried opening his mouth to speak again, but Merlin interrupted, "Pretend you're still enchanted. Gwen will be here any second and you must act as if her kiss brought you back."

He was still so in shock that he didn't even bother to question Merlin's order. Right on time, Gwen entered the tent and Arthur forced his features into a dreamy look. She looked angry, but walked right up to him nonetheless. She seemed to be debating whether to walk back out and Arthur was thinking along the same lines when she suddenly pulled Arthur's head down into a kiss.

He instinctively jerked back but then remembered Merlin's words. His mind was still swirling with his previous kiss but he managed to kiss Gwen back, pretending to wake up.

Her blinding smile made him feel horribly guilty, but he shook it off, knowing he had a duel to win.

His mind was still racing when he stepped onto the field and before he knew it, he had defeated King Olaf. He vaguely registered himself telling the king that he wouldn't kill him to maintain peace, but he was still thinking about what on earth had happened today. He kept jumping back to the feeling of Merlin's lips on his.

Arthur rushed back to the tent, determined to get some answers this time. To his relief, Merlin was still there, but he looked so resigned.

"What just happened?"

Merlin turned to look at him, smiling sadly. "You were under an enchantment. You were besotted with Vivian, you know."

Arthur scoffed, "I was never _besotted_ with anyone. You probably couldn't even notice; I am a very dignified prince after all."

Merlin laughed and Arthur once again was caught off-guard by how broken he looked. "Shall I remind you?"

His voice turned high-pitched, which was an absolutely horrid impression of Arthur. "It is destiny, my love! Destiny and chicken. What a beautiful combination, eh?"

Arthur looked at Merlin in horror. "You lie."

Merlin laughed again, but this time, Arthur laughed along with him and for a moment, it was simply two friends enjoying a joke at one's expense, but their laughter quickly broke off and settled into an awkward tension. Arthur sighed and knew this had to be said eventually.

"Merlin, you know that's not what I'm asking about."

His _friend_ stiffened. "And then the enchantment broke."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "From your— uh, you know."

Merlin looked into his eyes and Arthur was scared to see Merlin's eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looked like he was struggling to take his next breath, but finally, after an eternity, he cleared his throat and said with a trembling voice, "F-from a k-kiss by someone you l-love."

Oh. _Oh._

His heart was pounding faster than his horse could race. Arthur let out a shaky laugh, his stomach churning. "You don't mean—"

"That's exactly what I mean." His tone was even, almost monotonous, but Arthur sensed that he was barely holding himself together.

Merlin wouldn't meet his eyes anymore. Arthur felt his chest constricting and suddenly he was the one who couldn't get any air. It was as if all the oxygen had left his lungs. He needed to get _out_ and _away_. So that's exactly what he did.

He told himself he imagined the choked sobs coming from behind him.

* * *

Arthur kept having the awful luck of running into Merlin and Morgana's arguments, no matter how hard he tried to avoid Merlin. He didn't dare face him after he had fled the tent and had even assigned a different servant to be his manservant. All the better because Merlin didn't even show up for work. Arthur was split between relief and irritation.

"You can't do this, Morgana."

She huffed, "And you can't tell me what to do, _Merlin_."

"You cannot side with Mordred!"

"I don't see why you're so against him! You won't tell me anything nowadays."

Merlin groaned, "He's evil."

"He's a child!"

"Okay, fine. You cannot side with Alvarr."

Morgana glared daggers at him and if looks could kill, Merlin would've died tens of times over. "They wish to overthrow Uther. Is that not what you wish as well?"

Arthur couldn't stop his sharp intake of breath. Was he witnessing the betrayal of two people he trusted most?

Squeezing his eyes shut, Merlin sighed, "I've told you multiple times that once Arthur is king, things will be different."

"But things are still the same now! How many deaths could be avoided if Uther's reign ended now? And I don't understand why you still have unwavering faith in Arthur."

"He's destined to be the greatest king Camelot has ever had."

Arthur could almost hear Morgana rolling her eyes. "What about a queen, then? I would repeal the ban on magic immediately and finally, people with magic won't have to live in constant fear."

Merlin had a pained expression, but simply said, "I believe in him."

He was blown away by the fact that Merlin still believed in him, especially after the way he had been treating him, and it appeared that Morgana had the same thought.

"Even after he ran out on you?"

Merlin looked away in shame and quietly murmured, "Even then."

Arthur had never felt so ashamed. Morgana made a disgusted noise. "Suit yourself. I'm aiding Mordred and Alvarr with or without your help. You can come find me once you realize the fate of Albion is more important than your darling little _prince,_ " she spat.

He looked up then and spoke so confidently, Arthur almost had a hard time associating voice with face. "I will stop you, Morgana."

She smiled wickedly, "You can try."

After she left, Arthur heard Merlin slid down the wall and weakly ask, "What happened to us?"

As promised, that night, Alvarr escaped from the prison. Arthur had no choice but confront Merlin. He made sure to harden his features to act every bit the crown prince that was expected of him, but the second he saw Merlin's disheartened expression, his walls broke.

"You didn't stop her."

He didn't even look up and desolately responded, "I tried. I couldn't."

Arthur knew he should say something, but "I'm sorry" just didn't cut it. He wasn't quite sure for what he'd be apologizing. So he did the only thing he knew to do.

"Ready to get back to work?"

His only response was a fully deserved glare.

* * *

Merlin saved his life. Again. He saved the life of someone who broke him in every way possible. Arthur couldn't believe it. If it was him, he'd have left himself to die.

As he was wrapping Merlin's arm, Arthur tried talking to him, though he didn't know what to say. It didn't matter anyway because Merlin brushed past him, not even willing to acknowledge his presence. He felt torn between doing what he was expected to and doing what he wanted to, but he knew regardless of what he chose, it'd only bring pain.

Upon seeing a castle put to sleep, Merlin almost immediately makes an excuse to leave, arousing Arthur's suspicions. He pretended to accept his excuse of finding a "potion" that could somehow make them immune to the illness. He didn't believe him for a second.

He supposed he should have suspected that he would've headed to the dragon's lair, but that didn't stop the shock that came with the revelation that Morgana was the anchor of the enchantment. Arthur hadn't quite come to terms with the idea of her betraying Camelot. And then the dragon told Merlin the only way to awake everyone was to kill the anchor.

Merlin jerked backward and Arthur almost reached out to steady him, but he couldn't give himself away. He wasn't sure if Merlin would be capable of such.

In fact, he wasn't sure if he himself was capable of such.

This was Morgana! Whenever he thought of her, he didn't see a vengeful usurper. He saw the king's ward, his childhood _best friend_ , the one he once thought he'd marry, the girl for whom Merlin obviously cared deeply. Arthur hardened his gaze and straightened his shoulders. He couldn't force Merlin to darken his pure conscience; Arthur, on the other hand, had killed many, what was another?

He would soon be king, so he must think of the greater good, even if it meant shattering the last bit of the old Prince Arthur.

So for the second time in such a short span of days, Arthur found himself holding his sword at the neck of someone who was watching him with betrayal in their eyes as if they were the ones being betrayed and not him. Also for the second time, he was interrupted by the bursting open of doors.

Morgause whisked away Morgana and all Arthur could feel was relief. He needn't kill her after all, at least for now. Merlin was understandably deeply shaken and Arthur let him go without a word.

Little did he know how deeply he'd regret that.

* * *

"No man is worth your tears."

Did he really believe that? Being raised to become the crown prince, this became his mantra. It wasn't easy being raised by Uther, who may have been a strong and powerful king but was also severely lacking in emotional comfort.

Arthur would never forget the face of the knight to whom he once secretly referred as his father.

He was about twelve at the time. It was a bright and sunny day, the perfect weather for Uther to take his son on a hunting trip. The birds had been chirping happily but they flew away in a flurry upon sensing the crunch of leaves under the boots of Camelot's finest knights. They didn't spare the flying animals a second glance as their focus was solely on an unsuspecting, magnificent creature grazing in the grass tens of metres away.

The knights slowly spread out and crept behind the many trees in the forest, surrounding the deer, who was none the wiser.

Uther had promised little Arthur the first kill. Right behind the young prince stood his personal trainer, one of the most skilled knights, whispering in his ears. So it was with confident hands that he drew an arrow from the quiver on his back. Spending only a few seconds to aim, he took a deep breath and upon exhaling, he released his fingers from the string of his elegant bow, sending the arrow whizzing towards the oblivious deer. However, a moment before the arrow would have struck its neck, it leapt away from its grazing spot, obviously frightened. Arthur looked up in surprise, positive it wasn't scared by anyone on their hunting trip.

And then chaos erupted. This was an ambush.

A handful of knights were too slow to unsheathe their swords and they fell one after the other, with Arthur looking on in horror. Fortunately, the bandits were no match for the might of the remaining knights of Camelot. The prince's beloved knight was bravely fighting off four single-handedly to protect young Arthur, who was watching in awe. When the last one fell, the knight looked at him triumphantly.

Until his back suddenly arched. Arthur could only stand there, frozen, staring in shock at the glint of metal protruding from his stomach. Time slowed at his beloved father figure fell to his knees. The sound of bone against ground still haunts Arthur's dreams.

He vaguely registered someone screaming and it wasn't until later, when he became aware of his sore throat, that he realized the screams were coming from himself.

That was the day Uther first told him the mantra he'd repeat to himself every time a knight fell.

 _No man is worth your tears._

And here he was telling Merlin the same thing, attempting to comfort him for the death of Balinor, though he didn't dare reveal the fact that he knew Merlin was the Dragonlord's son, which wasn't hard to figure out. As soon as he heard Merlin speak to the dragon in its own tongue, his mind connected the dots.

To his surprise, the first thing Merlin said in response wasn't about his recently deceased father. "Not even you?" Merlin choked out, eyes glistening.

Arthur flinched and responded hoarsely, "Especially not me."

He noticed his manservant blinking quickly, unwilling to meet his eyes. An awkward tension settled against the silence of Arthur's chambers. Then, Merlin laughed bitterly, "I don't know what I was expecting after what happened before your duel with Olaf."

The prince felt his lungs compress and again, he found it increasingly hard to breathe, but this time, he forced himself to stay put. Ignoring the pain in his chest, he spoke, "It was probably a fluke. Perhaps a flaw in the enchantment. Perhaps any kiss would have awoken me. Regardless, you know as well as I do that it didn't mean anything."

Things may be different for servants when Arthur became king, but social structures and the narrow-mindedness of humans would not change.

Merlin inhaled sharply and hesitantly asked, "If things were different—"

"But they aren't. You should leave, Merlin."

His shoulders slumped and Arthur felt something inside him break. He turned away, unable to keep his face composed for a second longer. The next time he turned back around, Merlin was gone.

Something wet fell onto his hand and Arthur looked on without a hint of recognition, wiping the back of his hand on his tunic, assuming there was a leak in his ceiling. It wasn't until another drop of water fell onto his arm that realization dawned on him.

For the first time in years, Arthur was crying.

 **AN: Let me know what you thought! Until next time :)**


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